


Of Flowers And Tattoos

by Gothic_Lolita



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Meetings, Florist Tony, Fluff and Crack, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just fluff, tattoo artist bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 05:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11799165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/pseuds/Gothic_Lolita
Summary: Bucky just wants to create his tattoos in peace, but the damned floral shop next door blasts awful music Bucky simply can't stand. He goes to give the owner a piece of his mind, but honestly, how could Bucky have known the florist was going to be that cute?





	Of Flowers And Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt idea on Tumblr of OTP + tattoo parlor and a flower shop, and my mind just took it from there. Plotless, but cute. Enjoy.

Bucky gently wiped the away the excessive ink of his latest creation. His customer gushed over it, he gave them the ritual care details, they paid, and left. It was usual, something Bucky dealt with daily, but he enjoyed it. He got to create art that was permanently engraved into skin. He got to do the meaningful, beautiful tattoos, but he also got to do the 3 am, drunk tattoos, which more often than not ended up being more amusing. He got to run the little shop with his best friend Steve, and they surprisingly made enough money to stay afloat, even have occasional splurges. It was nice. The only thing that could make it better, was if the shop next to them would turn the music down.

"I'm so sick of it!" Bucky snapped, pacing. "All the damned place does is blast annoying rock and metal! I'm sick of it!" He exclaimed.

Steve shrugged. "Tell them to turn it down." 

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks it's ironic. We're a tattoo parlor, and we play 40s electric swing, and they're some florist joint that blasts 80s rock and metal." He sighed.

His blonde friend chuckled. "Hey, we both like electric swing and we're tattoo artists. Maybe they're just a florist who likes metal and rock. No harm in it." Steve soothed.

"There's harm in it when I can't concentrate and mess up a tattoo." Bucky grumbled.

Steve laughed. "Please. Buck, the world could come crashing down before you messed up. You may be a jerk, but you're the best artist I know." He said, smirking.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. "Punk." Steve only shrugged his shoulders and grinned, going back to dealing with finances. 

Bucky stood up. He had had it. He had heard enough of AC/DC, or Bon Jovi, or Metallica, or what-the-fuck-ever some stupid florist punk listened to. "I'm gonna go and tell 'em to turn down that racket. I'm gonna do it, Stevie." Bucky decided, pulling on his leather jacket and walking over to the door.

"You do that." Steve said absently.

The tattoo artist stormed over to the next door over,  _Tony's Floral Designs._ Well whoever this Tony was, he was about to get a piece of Bucky's mind. Bucky pushed the door open, the little bell cheerfully jingling with the movement.

"Hey, how can I help you today?" Came a cheerful voice, a man in a green apron spinning around, holding an assortment of purple flowers in his hand.

"You can help me by turning down that damned  _ **racket**_ you call- oh." Bucky cut off his angry complaint when he caught sight of the florist. Because well, _ **damn**_. A short, thin but well built man, with wildly sticking out every which way, a short styled beard, honey mocha eyes. Holy shit. Bucky did not realize such a...  _ **pretty**_  man could exist.

The man tilted his head to the side and arched an eyebrow slightly. "Pardon?"

"I... I came here to tell you... tell you to turn down your... your um..." Bucky wasn't entirely sure what was coming out of his mouth, but he figured it was every bit embarrassing.

The man smiled, looking slightly amused and mostly confused. "The music, you mean?" Bucky dumbly nodded. "Ah, sorry about that. Pepper, my assistant, says it's annoying as all hell too. She says it ruins the mood of a floral shop. But then again, no one has floral arrangements like I do, so it's hardly affecting my business. I'll turn it down though, just for someone as handsome as you." The guy winked and Bucky was positive his eyes were as wide as saucers. "You work at the tattoo parlor next door, Starbuck, right?" He asked.

Bucky nodded quickly. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"The logo's on your shirt." The guy pointed, and Bucky felt another wave of embarrassment. "How'd you come up with a name like that, anyway?" The guy asked, organizing flowers, but still paying attention.

"Well, people call Steve Captain America, as kind of a joke, and my name is Bucky, so it's a joint nickname people came up with awhile back. It kinda stuck, I guess." Bucky explained awkwardly.

The guy nodded. "Well it's nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm Tony, I own this place, obviously. I hope my loud music hasn't completely ruined my chance of getting into your pants." Tony smirked, winking again.

Bucky choked on his words. "I- uh,  _ **no**_. It didn't." He said quickly. Smooth, Barnes. Smooth.

Tony smiled. "Good."

Bucky's eyes flicked to the clock in the corner of the wall, and he swore. "Shit, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm on break, and it's almost over, I need to get back." He said, his face apologetic. He really didn't want to leave this super cute florist guy, but he did like his job, and Steve would _ **kill**_ him if he was late again.

Tony nodded with sympathy and understand. "I get it. Here's my card." Tony pulled a card out of his pocket and stuffed it in Bucky's hand.

"But I don't need a bouquet." Bucky frowned.

"Sweetheart, who said you did? It has my number. Call me for a  _ **date**_ , tattoo artist."Tony whispered, leaning in close, then pulling away with a wink. Tony spun around to move flower around and  _ **damn**_ , that was a nice ass.

Bucky quickly shooed himself out of the floral shop and back to his little parlor. "Well?" Steve asked, looking up. Before Bucky could answer, the music from next door got _ **louder**_ , and Bucky could practically imagine Tony's smirk. "I guess that didn't go too well." Steve noted.

Bucky looked down at the card in his hand. He grinned. "Actually, it went _ **fantastic**_ , punk."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to electric swing. Yes, I'm that fucking classy.


End file.
